


Everything For You

by spiralicious



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, Dean's Deal, Dubious Consent, F/F, Guilt, Hellhounds, Horror, Human Ruby (Supernatural), M/M, Mild Gore, Multi, Possessive Sam Winchester, SPN Eldritch Bang, Season/Series 03, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/F/M, Witch Ruby (Supernatural), Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 11:57:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21074525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiralicious/pseuds/spiralicious
Summary: An AU where Ruby never became a demon. Instead, she crossed paths with Rowena while still a human witch and became Rowena's favored minion. Sam still goes to Ruby for help with Dean's deal, this time getting entangled with both Ruby and Rowena. Unable to break Dean's deal, they end up summoning him back from the dead, broken in ways Sam had not expected and with dire consequences for everyone. Sam's point of view.





	Everything For You

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to my artist, BlindSwandive for her amazing art and to my beta TigerLilyNoh. I couldn't have done this without either of you.

The dim mood lighting and pristine tablecloths did nothing to put Sam Winchester at ease. It was the most expensive restaurant he had ever stepped foot in. The waiter who escorted him to his table had made it very clear from his little sneer that Sam's suit was not up to par. The waiter's opinion was not the one he cared about though. It was the tiny redhead before him that had him squirming in his seat.

“So, Samuel. Ruby tells me you have a little problem?” She smirked knowingly at Sam. Ruby purred beside her at the table, Rowena’s faithful henchwoman, ever her loyal pet.

Every instinct in him told Sam he should bolt, pretend he'd never been there, heard of Rowena, or ever confided in Ruby. The whole thing screamed setup, right down to Ruby's instantaneous transformation from doe-eyed, half-scared witch that “just wanted to help” to the confident woman leering at him over her wine glass while he was being addressed by her... whatever Rowena was to her. Master? High witchiness? But instead, he stayed. He took a drink, straightened his tie, and told Rowena every little detail about Dean's deal.

It was not the unemotional retelling he had planned. All the guilt of having been the reason Dean put himself in this situation to start with and the anger he felt over his brother being stupid enough to make such a deal in the first place came pouring out of him without his permission. What did it say about their lives and their whole messed up relationship that Dean threw his life away just to get Sam back? If it was the normal ten years, maybe it would almost make sense, but a year? One measly, miserably year that stuck Sam in the horrible position of knowing everyday that his brother had a set expiration date, there was nothing he could do about it, and it was his fault. 

Then what the hell was Sam supposed to do? Dean hadn’t really given him the gift of his life back. He had given him the “joy” of a lifetime of guilt and pain of not having his brother. Didn’t Dean feel the same things those days that Sam was dead? Why did he put that agony back on his brother? Sam couldn’t even blame his brother for being selfish as that wasn’t it at all. Dean didn’t think he mattered like Sam did. That hurt the most.

More importantly, how the hell was he supposed to live without Dean? Life without his brother by his side was unthinkable. His entire life was Dean. How could have Dean not seen that? Most of the time he was grateful his brother couldn’t see the depth of his feelings for him, but this was certainly not one of them. 

He breathed in deeply through his nose, trying in vain to keep back a trickle of tears that were already falling. He told himself he would not cry in front of the smirking jackals watching him, despite that he technically already was. Rowena at least pretended to look concerned and sympathetic. The act didn’t reach her eyes though. Whatever help they might give him, it was going to cost him dearly. 

“Well.” Rowena took a deep breath. She sat back and bridged her perfectly manicured fingers together. “That is quite a problem. I can't promise you that I can solve it, but if anyone can, it would be us.” Her smile was predatory.

Ruby nodded. She opened her mouth as though she was going to say something, but after looking at Rowena, quickly took a drink of her wine as though that was what she’d been after all along. 

Sam didn't care that she couldn't promise results. It was a chance. He'd promised Dean he wouldn't pry, that he wouldn't try to break the deal, but he couldn’t pass up even the remotest possibility of saving his brother. “Thank you! I can't...” he started to babble out in relief that there was finally a glimmer of hope after months of dead ends.

She leaned forward. “Don't thank me yet. I'm not doing this out of the kindness of my heart.” Her tone was almost scolding.

Sam was cautious again. “What do you want?” 

“Why, you, dear.” Rowena sipped her wine like that answered everything.

“My soul?” he asked incredulously. What else could she mean?

She laughed. “No. You.”

It took Sam several months to understand what that meant exactly. Rowena, and by extension, Ruby, wanted his time, body, devotion, and anything else they could get. It was easier to sneak around behind Dean’s back than he’d imagined. He gave himself to them slowly, by millimeters, without even realizing it. After a couple months, he didn't even think about the double life he was leading. He acquired books and ingredients for them. Dean's barbs about him being out all night stopped carrying any sting. Rowena's praise and rewards kept him enthralled. She didn't give genuine affection and he was fairly certain that he was hexed, but he didn't care. He was a glutton for the scraps she'd feed him.

And they did work on trying to break or at least avoid Dean's deal. They studied ancient books, consulted the witches' odd network of connections, they even had a promising lead on repelling hellhounds, but in the end, a deal was a deal. 

If he hadn’t know Dean as well as he did, he probably wouldn’t have noticed when Dean first started hearing the hellhounds. In truth, Dean never did acknowledge why he was being more twitchy than usual. They never talked about the day approaching. Dean just became quieter. Both of them got moodier. 

Then the hallucinations started. At least Sam assumed they were hallucinations. Dean had trouble looking straight at him, or anyone else. The final straw was when Dean shot up their hotel mirror. If he hadn’t been so far gone, Sam knew he wouldn’t have been able to get Dean in the car to go to one of the witches’ safehouses. 

Knowing the day was inching closer, they had been warding one house in particular to secure Dean in. Rowena had chosen one that she had deemed expendable in case things went sideways. It wasn’t even furnished beyond what they thought they might need to make their stand; a table for Rowena and Ruby to prepare spells at and a couple chairs for waiting. 

They sat Dean down in the middle of the back storage room with only one door and no windows. Ruby surrounded him with black dust that looked like pepper to Sam, but she assured him it would keep the hellhounds back, at least for a while. They lined the whole house with it. 

It didn’t take long before Dean started looking around like he heard something. Sam wished they were better armed. Ruby had placed some kind of enchantment that went over Sam’s head on a few machetes and Rowena, as always, was relying solely on magic. They’d been tracing a knife that could kill demons, but that had been a dead end.

Sam flinched at the first snap. It was the front door to the house. He watched Ruby compulsively pass her machete from one hand to another. It was nice to know someone else was antsy. Dean paced in his circle, stopping every so often to cover his ears at something only he could hear. Rowena started chanting. Sam could feel the traps they laid between the front door and the kitchen hum to life. 

Dean raised his head and stared at the door. “You got one.”

“We did?” Ruby asked in shock.

“It yelped.” Dean half shrugged. 

Rowena flinched hard. “Those infernal beasts...” She marched to her purse, muttering under her breath, “they’re plowing through my traps like tissue paper.” She pulled out a red bag, and went back to her table of operations. She tossed it in one of the three spell bowls in front of her. There was a small green flare. “Well?” She looked at Dean.

Dean swallowed. “It sounded like they went skidding across the floor, but I think they’re still in the kitchen.”

Sam braced himself and stood in front of the door. It was the only thing between them and the hellhounds now, if they really were in the kitchen. He was amazed they had broke through all of Rowena’s traps so quickly. 

“Give me a machete, Sam!” Dean demanded. 

“Get back in the circle, Dean!” Sam didn’t have to look back to know Dean was now right behind him. 

The door started bouncing. 

“Damn it, Sam. I’m about to become dog chow here, at least give me something to get a few whacks in.”

Sam turned to argue when a wave of energy knocked them all on their asses. Rowena had, without warning them, activated another spell. 

“Well?” she asked urgently. 

“Well, what?” Sam coughed and worked to get back to his feet. He heard Dean groan next to him. 

“Are they gone?”

All eyes were on Dean, who was sitting up and listening. “I think so.” 

Ruby stomped over and dropped a machete in front of Dean on the floor. His protective circle had been obliterated. 

The three of them stumbled around getting their bearings while Rowena set up for her next attack when the wall cracked. Dean’s wide eyes said it all. They were trying to come in through the wall. 

Sam and Dean stood at the ready, Ruby was as far behind them as she could get. Sam could hear Rowena open her book and began to chant. 

Plaster continued to steadily break off the wall. The crack climbed up the wall and started across the ceiling. The floor began to bounce. Every wall had a weak spot. It was only a matter of time before they found it. 

Sam was knocked back when they finally burst through. A weight held him down that he couldn’t shake off. His machete flew out of his hand and across the room when he hit the floor. He was forced to watch as Dean was dragged towards the hole in the wall. His brother fought the entire way. Dean was well out of sight when the screaming began. 

The weight finally let Sam go when the screaming stopped. 

He couldn’t save Dean from the hellhounds. 

That didn't mean there weren't other options.

Sam lifted Dean's body and carefully arranged his limbs on the slab Rowena had prepared. It was an ancient stone work table with remnants of centuries of spell work etched into the top of it. It had seemed so massive when he’d watched Rowena work at it, grinding ingredients and piecing together spells, but Dean’s body overwhelmed the surface. The only light in the room came from flickering, fat, white candles whose wax had bubbled over their holders long ago. 

He dared not make a noise, unable to shake the sensation he’d suddenly found himself in a mausoleum, his brother lying in state. His fingers brushed against Dean's brow. Sam still was expecting a response on some level, but all he got was unseeing green eyes staring up at the ceiling. The faint trail of blood he left behind startled him. Sam was covered in it up to his elbows from trying to hold in Dean's intestines as they threatened to spill out. The wet entrails had turned cold against the night air, and Sam had to fight against the impulse to keep his brother warm.

He wished he could close Dean's mouth. Intellectually, he knew it wouldn't stay, but it looked like he was trying to speak and all Sam could hear were the screams from an hour ago.

Rowena pushed her way in beside him with a pair of scissors and started clinically undressing the body.

“What are you doing?!” Sam tried pushing her back.

Rowena rolled her eyes. “Damage assessment, Samuel. We're going to have to make a few repairs before we get started and I need to see what we're dealing with. Cleaning him up a bit wouldn't exactly hurt either.”

Sam looked at his brother with a more critical eye. Dean's abdomen was ripped open. One of his thighs was shredded. There was so much blood that there was no way to see any smaller bits of damage, like puncture wounds or possible internal damage. Sam knew she was right. He still didn't like it.

Ruby appeared a few moments later with a bucket of water and a sponge. Wordlessly, she started dabbing the areas Rowena was assessing until Sam snatched it away from her and took over.

She glared at him spitefully. Sam didn’t care. It was his brother and regardless of what he let her do to himself, she wasn’t going near Dean anymore than was necessary. He snorted lightly while he watched Ruby stomp off. 

“We're going to need a few things.” Rowena looked up from her examination. “Samuel, how do you feel about breaking into morgues?”

It should have been more difficult to get to this part of the hospital. Sam had gone alone, reasoning that if he didn't have to keep track of Ruby, he could work faster. This time of night, there was really no one around, but Sam was starting to regret not having the forethought to steal some scrubs. The shortsightedness wasn’t like him, but his focus had been narrowed to fixing Dean and nothing beyond that mattered. He knew no part of any hospital was ever truly empty and a tall man in jeans and a black hoodie lurking around with a giant bag might be suspicious. It was something to consider on his next stop. Rowena had given him quite a list and the chances were that a single morgue was unlikely to have everything on it. He also had a time limit to work with. Hopefully, no one would try to stop him. Then again, if they were the right height... Sam shook that out of his head.

He sped his way down the stairs to the morgue.

The records were easy to access. He mostly needed fresh organs and skin. Rowena had told him finding blood matches weren't important, but condition and size of the organs were. He found a couple of possible candidates. He wouldn't know for sure until he viewed the bodies.

He pulled the first one from its drawer; head trauma victim. Sam was single-minded enough in his focus that he missed the fact that the body he was poking and prodding was missing half its face. He decided if he was careful, he could get a lot from this one.

Sam brought the unwitting organ donor over to an exam table. He set up the jars from his bag. Rowena had even given him a book with the pertinent information flagged. He found a scalpel, a saw, and a rib spreader and got to work.

Later, Sam realized he should have worn gloves.

It took another hospital and two funeral homes to find someone he was willing to settle on with a skin tone he thought was close enough to Dean's, gathering other bits along the way. Sam was grateful he'd paid some attention when Bobby tried to teach him how to skin a deer.

No one had eyes that came close to Dean's. It would be strange looking into mismatched ones, but he settled on a grey-blue one that he thought he could live with from a young woman who was missing the lower half of her torso.

When he got back to the girls, he saw that he wasn't the only one that had been busy. Rowena had turned the dining room of their favorite safe house into her own little operating theater. The bright red leopard print apron with black lace was weirdly fitting. She stood over a foul smelling bowl, hand raised, reading from a book. Sam didn't flinch when the bowl suddenly shot out sparks.

Ruby breezed in like a specter and took Sam's bag of parts from him. Sam watched her methodically examine and sort the future pieces of Dean into waiting trays and buckets.

“Samuel?”

He looked at Rowena.

“You reek, dear, and you're getting blood on my floor. Go shower.”

Sam looked himself over, noticing for the first time how red he was. He held his hand in front of him, looking at how red caked around crevices around his nails and wrinkles around his knuckles. There had to have been traces of him everywhere he'd gone tonight. He didn't particularly care.

“Sh-ow-er.” Rowena enunciated the word slowly.

He nodded. A shower suddenly sounded good. 

Sam stood motionless with his eyes shut under the head of the shower. He let the water run over him, refusing to acknowledge any of the thoughts streaming through his brain. The shower door slid open. He refused to acknowledge it as well. There was no such thing as privacy in the witches’ house, but sometimes he could ignore them anyway. 

“Sam?”

He opened an eye in Ruby's general direction.

“You know showering generally involves moving your hands around... and soap?” She taunted with her head poking into the shower, carefully avoiding the spray. Her impish grin bordered on malevolent. 

Sam didn't move or say anything.

“I'm not going in there to do it for you. You're too damn tall. Though, the lower half could be possible.” She looked directly at his cock.

Sam squirmed. It wasn't like she hadn't seen it before and she'd done more to him than she was implying now, but she had this tone sometimes that made some primal part of his brain scream at him to run. He never listened to it.

“Rowena says to hurry up. Things are ready.” She slid the shower door shut and disappeared.

That got Sam in action. Dean needed him, but he had to be clean first. At least on the outside.

Sam finished pulling his shirt over his head as he walked into the room. He stopped short. Technically, he’d seen Dean earlier, but this was different. He was so clean now, laid out on the cold, hard table. His wounds were trimmed and obvious. Extra lighting was brought in, making everything bright and overexposed. He looked so _dead_ now. 

Ruby came up from behind him and slapped him with a large, white apron, breaking the figurative spell. 

That delivered, he watched her walk over to a small side table. On it were six or seven small jars of dried plants Sam couldn’t readily identify. She was grinding them into a red paste, of which there already was what looked like a large mayonnaise jar full. 

On Dean’s other side were two trays of surgical equipment, including a rather menacing looking saw and a rib spreader. For the first time since this started, Sam wavered. Was he really going to crack open his big brother? Invade his body without his knowledge and permission? Dean would do it for him, but then again maybe that was the problem. Their continual jumping in front of both real and proverbial bullets for each other was bordering on pathological at this point. And Dean had been the one to say, “What’s dead should stay dead.”

And yet, Dean wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for him.

Sam walked closer. Dean’s head was being cradled by some sort of curved device holding it straight. The gashes on his face were more obvious now without the blood. They’d shaved part of his head to get to more wounds. Sam reached out to stroke his cheek. 

“Gloves, Samuel!” 

He turned around to see Rowena wheeling in a cart. It was loaded up with more jars of what Ruby was working with, plus bright yellow flowers, huge bowls of salt, her summoning bowl, and several small bowls of prepared ingredients. She was still wearing that ridiculous apron. 

“Put your apron on. Ruby, if you could be a dear and go get the rest of our supplies?” Rowena started arranging the contents of her cart onto the counter behind them. 

Ruby left her paste making to go in the other room. It took several trips, but she returned with all the parts he’d gathered for Dean earlier. They had been cleaned and prepped for implantation, each on their own individual tray. The pieces of skin were spread like sheets of paper and floated in clear liquid.

There was also a vast quantity of sewing materials. 

Sam put on his apron while Rowena fussed with the placement of everything. 

The details taken care of, Rowena walked to the head of the table, holding herself like a queen before her court. “Shall we?”

Sam wasn’t as prepared as he thought. Intellectually, he knew exactly what was going to happen, but there was a vast ocean of difference between knowing the organs he’d procured were going inside his brother and working the muscle end of the rib spreader opening him up to make it happen. 

Rowena and Ruby treating the situation as a bland, everyday occurrence, like Tuesday dinner, didn’t help. 

Things didn’t just pull away cleanly and easily like in the movies. He should have known that from the practice he’d gained a few hours before, but those corpses weren’t his brother. He wouldn’t ever admit it to himself, but they hadn’t been people anymore. They’d been tasks, parts to be taken. 

This was Dean. He watched Rowena slice into him. Sam shut down his brain as best he could. He helped them pull Dean apart. 

The two women really didn’t need Sam there, once Dean’s abdomen had been muscled apart. Even that they could have probably done without him, it just would have taken longer. Rowena’s cuts were precise and clean. Ruby was the obedient assistant who could anticipate Rowena’s needs before she voiced them. 

The red paste was apparently some sort of magical sealant. Ruby worked closely in tandem with Rowena following her sutures with a little brush. She liberally coated each new seam before moving on to help Rowena swap out the next organ. 

Sam was in a bit of a daze by the time they were getting ready to close Dean up. 

Rowena placed her hand on Dean’s heart and started chanting. It was low and mumbled. Sam couldn’t make out the words, but his ears started to ring and his vision shook. Rowena’s eyes went violet, she took a large gasp, and that part was done. 

Ruby’s eyes widened in alarm, but she didn’t say anything. She took a jar of her red paste and poured it into Dean’s cavity. After he was filled, she backed away from the table and eyed Rowena. 

Rowena ignored her. “Samuel, we need to work on the outside now.” 

Sam shook himself back to reality and helped close Dean up. More paste was added between the layers. Ruby wired Dean’s ribs back together. Rowena closed the skin with neat, even stitches. 

She took a deep breath and wiped her hands on her apron. “Now for the delicate bits.” 

Repairing Dean’s skin was somehow worse, Sam decided. While one of the witches, probably Ruby under Rowena’s instruction, had trimmed the wounds to see how deep the damage went, they hadn’t actually incised the wounds yet. He watched as Rowena decided exactly how far out from the wound she needed to cut and delicately cut and peeled the skin away with her scalpel. Ruby was ever at the ready with her little paint brush and jar of red paste to coat the newly exposed area. The two of them would then debate over which piece of skin fit which section best before trimming it to size with those ghastly enormous sewing sheers of Rowena’s. There wasn’t much for Sam to do besides handing over tools and holding the light. 

Part of him felt like he was stuck in the world’s most gruesome quilt circle. 

Rowena was certainly not the first person Sam thought of when he thought of “domestic skills,” but her stitches were tight, even, and precise. Even after a lifetime of stitching up himself and his brother, Sam’s stitches weren’t even half as nice. 

Unlike fabric though, skin couldn’t really be pinned in place while you stitched. Ruby held the skin down to keep things in place while Rowena worked. That was getting to Sam, Ruby touching his brother. He longed to slap her away.

“Samuel, the light,” Rowena warned.

Sam adjusted the light he was holding back to where it should be. “You know, I could do that.”

“What dear?” Rowena asked with an exasperated sigh. 

Sam cleared his throat. “My hands, they're, uh, bigger so I could hold things better, firmer.”

"Bigger isn't always better, Lurch. I'm tiny and can maneuver around. Your tall ass needs to hold the light above us," Ruby interjected before Rowena could reply.

His eyes narrowed at the insult and suggestion that she, of all people, could give Dean's body the proper attention and care that it deserved. Maybe he didn't have the experience or the “maneuverability,” but he was committed. It was his Dean. This was just some chore for her. Hell, she hardly handled flesh with delicacy when she was getting pleasure from it. He should know.

“I've got claw marks on my back that say your tiny and maneuverable hands don't know how to handle skin. Maybe I just don’t want you fucking up my brother too,” Sam replied with a cold snarl.

“Fucking up?” Ruby let go of Dean to turn and face Sam in her outrage. “You accuse me of not knowing what the fuck I'm doing? You, a single-minded, oblivious, novice? I work hard, and if I decide to play hard on the skin of your ass, you're gonna smile and fuck me harder because—"

Sam opened his mouth to interject, but Rowena cut him off. 

“Children, enough! We are in the middle of a delicate procedure. The two of you can save the foreplay for later.”

“No, he thinks he doesn’t need me for this, fine. Good luck, Sam.” Ruby flicked off her gloves, tossing them to the floor and walked off. 

Rowena took a deep breath. “Well?”

Sam blinked, not entirely sure if she wanted him to go after Ruby or something else.

“Samuel, put the light down somewhere close and get your hands in here. You wanted to help, help.” Her tone was far from kind. 

Sam immediately complied. 

Rowena was not done with her lecture. “You need to be less of a fussy hen when it comes to your brother. Ruby is trained, I’ve put years into her. You’ve been here, what, a few months? You know nothing. She is doing her job and you have been pushing her away at every turn because of your,” she shook her head trying to find the right words, “prissy, caveman, possessive nonsense. Now, I don’t care about whatever it is you and your brother… are to each other.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Don’t interrupt, Samuel. Ruby knows her place. Find yours. Now, pick up the paint brush.”

Rowena talked Sam through his part in the rest of Dean’s skin repair. Aside from holding Dean’s skin in place, he also had to trim the edges, and paint on the red paste. It reacted differently on Dean’s skin than Sam had seen it working inside Dean’s body. It disappeared into the seams almost as soon as Sam applied it, like it was being pulled in with a magnet. It tightened the seams as it went. 

Of course, then came Dean’s ruined eye.

“Would you like to pop it out or should I, dear?” Rowena asked far too gleefully. 

There was even a special tool for it. Rowena had already started work on the surrounding area. Sam’s hands shook.

“Maybe you should just be a good boy and hold his head still?” It wasn’t really a question. 

He watched her pop Dean’s damaged eye out of his head with a twist and a pull he thought was sure to crush it. Instead of the red paste, she poured in one of the prepared herb mixtures she’d wheeled in on the cart earlier. Rowena chanted something under her breath as she did so. Dean’s new eye was floating in a jar of a foul smelling clear liquid. She plucked it from there and gently placed it in the open socket. An orange light flashed and faded slowly around it. 

“Could you get the salt, dear?” Rowena didn’t wait for Sam to move before she got to work closing up the last bits of Dean’s face, apparently not needing Sam for that. 

After Sam brought over the salt and she was done fixing up Dean’s face, Rowena carefully combined it with another bowl of pre-mixed ingredients and the yellow flowers. 

“Make sure you get this under all of him, Samuel. I mean all of him. Don’t miss any spots.” Rowena walked off with the last bowl of pre-mixed ingredients, leaving Sam to his task. 

That part shouldn’t have been hard after everything else. He’d handled Dean’s body so much in the last few hours, inside and out, there shouldn’t have been anything sacred left about it. But somehow it was still Dean. He reverently touched Dean’s leg. All he could think about how he was never allowed to touch unless one of them was hurt. Dean couldn’t get more hurt than he was now. 

With a deep breath, Sam finally got to work. He carefully lifted each limb and laying salt under it. Turning Dean on his side to get salt under his torso was a bit more difficult. He was relieved when Rowena returned with her spell book and bowl. 

“Done?” She placed the bowl on Dean’s abdomen. 

“Yeah.” Sam stepped back.

“Good.” She opened her spell book. The words she read sounded like what she’d chanted earlier. The whole thing was a bit anticlimactic; no sparks, no smoke, no headaches, and no purple eyes.

It was done for now. Sam felt oddly strung out. The emotional toll of piecing and patching Dean back together being more than what he had bargained for. Now, they had to wait. He watched Rowena place the final touches of the preservation spell.

“Are you sure we have to wait?”

“We've been over this, Sam. The spell is very specific. It must be a new moon. That's three days from now.”

“And some salt and flowers are going to keep him from rotting on the table?”

“Now, you question me!” Rowena threw her hands up theatrically. She huffed and placed her hands on her hips before she continued. “This is very old magic you're dealing with Sam Winchester. I suggest you not piss it off.” Rowena crossed her arms and tilted her chin up at him defiantly. 

“I just mean shouldn't he be in a freezer or something?”

“You really want to wrap your brother up and stuff him in a freezer? Besides, that could damage the tissues. A freezer burnt steak is one thing, but a freezer burnt brother?” She shot him a look that dared to be proved wrong.

He had to admit she had a point. Sam settled into his chair and eyed Dean like a dog waiting for its master to walk through the door.

“Oh, there'll be none of that now.” Rowena dusted off her hands and walked out of the room.

Sam perked up with mild curiosity at whatever it was she had planned.

She came back with a cup of tea. “Here.” 

Sam started to lift it in his lips, but stopped. “What did you put in here?” he asked matter-of-factly.

“A little something to keep you distracted so we don't have to watch you stare at a corpse with sad puppy eyes for three days.”

Sam drained the cup in one gulp. He let Rowena lead him by the hand away from the chair. Whatever she was drugging him with hadn't taken effect yet, but he was willing to be distracted in the meantime.

He leaned down and kissed her needfully, cupping both sides of her face with his hands.

“That's my good lad,” she chuckled. She slid her hands under his shirt. He dutifully pulled it off over his head. Her fingers danced thoughtfully over his stomach and up his chest. He closed his eyes and let her play. She liked to trace his muscles with her fingers and draw invisible sigils on his skin with barely there scratches of her nails. It was surprisingly soothing. 

Sam opened his eyes when she stopped. Rowena tugged at the waistband of his jeans. If they hadn’t done this before, he might have thought she was trying to lead him forward, but he knew from experience she meant, “off.” 

He watched her as he flicked open the fly of his jeans. She eyed his hands with a predatory smirk. Rowena wasn’t looking for a drawn out strip tease. She was looking for skin. He pushed his jeans down his hips and to the floor.

Sam stood there, naked, hands at his side, waiting. He tried to project some semblance of authority, but he knew full well she was in charge here. She slowly looked over his body, assessing him for what he didn’t know. She’d seen him naked what felt like hundreds of times before. 

She stepped forward, nearly resting her chin on his chest to look up at him. Rowena rested her hand on his hip and scratched him sharply.

That’s when he felt it. The temperature of the room suddenly jumped to a few degrees above comfortable. She smirked at him and stepped back. The tea was kicking in. 

Rowena firmly, but carefully, grasped his penis and started to lead him away like it was a leash. Sam flushed, but followed. Even with no audience, yet, it was embarrassing, but he liked it. 

When they arrived in the bedroom, Ruby was lounging on the bed. She was quietly fuming with a large glass of the red wine she kept in there for “emergencies.” 

“Oh, yay, my favorite person,” Ruby deadpanned. 

Rowena let go of Sam. “Don’t be like that.” She crawled onto bed next to Ruby. She brushed the hair away from Ruby’s ear. “He’s ready to apologize... and be a good boy,” she whispered, punctuating it with a kiss to Ruby’s cheek.

Ruby turned to look at her skeptically. 

“No, really. Look.” She stroked a finger along Ruby’s jaw and rested her head against hers.

Ruby reluctantly turned her head and slowly looked Sam over from head to toe. She seemed pleased by what she saw. 

Sam still felt too hot, but was settling into it. Otherwise, he felt… good. Not euphoric or happy, just pleasantly content, like all was well and nothing could be bad. His embarrassment was gone. 

Rowena and Ruby kissed briefly. Rowena slid off the bed. Ruby scooted to the center of the bed. She flicked open the fly of her jeans and lifted her hips to slide them down and off.

Sam watched with rapt attention. He licked his lips and longed to get closer, but found himself waiting for permission. 

Ruby teased him, sliding her fingers just under the lacy waistline of her panties, but going no further. Sam was practically drooling in anticipation. She lifted her leg and pointed her foot at him, silently commanding him as she had other nights. He obediently knelt on the bed. Sam caressed her foot in both hands and kissed her instep. He watched her face, making sure he was making her happy. Getting a pleased smile, he continued kissing up her leg. When he got to her thigh, Ruby brought her knees to her chest and reached down to slide her panties off. Sam leaned forward to help slide them the rest of the way off and tossed them to the floor. 

He kissed her knee. Ruby spread her legs. Sam nestled between them. He inhaled her scent that he’d been conditioned to crave. He nosed around, leaving barely there kisses until he’d earned small gasp from Ruby. Growing bolder, he licked up her sex. She tilted her hips forward, seeking more contact. He obliged her, pressing forward, alternating between long and short licks. Her hands gripped his hair, scratching his scalp in the process, to hold him there. He gripped her thighs tighter, speeding up his efforts. She moaned, rocking her hips, grinding against him. Sam knew she was close. He started to plunge his tongue in deeper, desperate to make her come. 

When Ruby cried out, it was muffled. He lapped up the taste of her until he physically had to come up for more air, already knowing the reason why her moan had been quieted. 

Sam lifted his head, resting it on Ruby’s thigh and watched. Rowena had undressed while he was otherwise preoccupied. The two witches were sharing languid kisses. Rowena had pushed up Ruby’s top to her neck and was working a pert nipple. Ruby squirmed and whimpered. Sam couldn’t help lightly rutting against the bed while he watched. 

Rowena pulled away from Ruby to look at Sam. She beckoned him forward with her finger. Ruby ragdolled against the bed, panting from all the attention. Sam gently crawled forward between Ruby’s spread legs. He kissed Rowena, opening his mouth for her when she demanded it with the prodding of her tongue. 

She touched his jaw and lightly pushed him away from her. Sam was confused until she guided his head towards Ruby. He leaned down to kiss her, trying to not lay his full weight on her. Ruby clutched at Sam’s shoulder and wrapped a leg around his hip, trying to pull him impossibly closer. Sam got the hint and reached between them, to help guide himself into her. 

He sat up on his knees, bringing her with him to ride him. She gasped and clung to him while they got adjusted. He felt Rowena move behind him and start kissing his back. Ruby started working herself up and down, searching for her sweet spot. Sam moved his hand up her back to help her balance and moved his hips in tandem with her. 

He felt Rowena scratch her nails up his side and to his chest causing him to speed up. Sam reached back with his free hand to pull Rowena closer, grasping her thigh. Sam could feel Rowena reach around him to caress Ruby. Rowena bit his shoulder, earning an eager grunt. Ruby tilted her head back, moaning. Sam dragged his teeth along her sweaty flesh as he kissed her chest, no longer being able to tell where the tangle of them began and ended as individual people. He wasn’t going to hold out much longer. 

Rowena slid her hand down his stomach to where he and Ruby were joined. She rubbed her thumb over both of them, causing both Ruby and Sam to come. 

Sam bowed forward, panting, practically dropping Ruby against the bed. Rowena was still petting and kissing along his back. She wasn’t going to wait for him to recover before she took her turn.

He pulled out and rolled onto the bed on his back. He briefly placed a hand on Ruby’s stomach, not knowing why he had to reassure her that he was still there.

Rowena moved to straddle his face. Sam brought his hands to her thighs to help give her more leverage. She grinded against him while he flicked his tongue the way she liked. Sam relaxed into it, savoring the taste of her, and concentrated on making Rowena scream out in languages he couldn’t understand. 

When she came, Rowena sat there, slow to dismount. She squirmed and mewed, enjoying while Sam eagerly lapped up his reward. He was near suffocating when she finally got down. 

The three days passed in a blur for Sam. Time moved in spits and spurts. He felt like he laid in bed the entire time, his body too heavy to move, watching the world around him spin on fast forward. Every so often, time would suddenly slow down to normal for a few moments; Ruby riding him, Rowena examining his eye. Then, he'd lose time completely, finding himself in a new position, in a new activity, with no memory of how he got there.

He had no idea when or how Rowena was continuing to drug him. Sam had trouble remembering why he was supposed to care.

In a lucid moment, he felt the blunt tip of Ruby's finger tracing around a lock hair trying to curl into his ear. Sam's eyes were shut and he was pretty sure he'd been sleeping. His head was heavy and felt disconnected from the rest of his body. He tried wiggling his fingers just to make sure he could. Someone walked by and slapped his ass. He definitely felt that.

It was time.

All the guilt and questions from a few days ago as to whether or not he was doing the right thing by bringing Dean back came flooding back. It was sobering, but at this point, there was no going back. Not that the witches gave him enough time to back out. He’d barely gotten his clothes on when he was being dragged to Dean’s table.

Rowena worked fast. The candles had been brought in. Their flickering in the otherwise dark house brought with it an otherworldly atmosphere. The salt was gone and Dean was now laying a layer of ice. She had her book at the ready and was already in the middle adding things to a large metal bowl. Rowena tossed in a fresh rabbit’s foot with a flourish when Sam walked in. 

“Oh good, we’re all finally here! Everyone please touch the body and repeat after me.” The fact that she sounded like a preschool teacher about to lead a sing along made it that much more disturbing. 

Ruby glared at him as she placed her hands on Dean’s knee and stomach. “I hope that’s alright with you, Sam?”

Sam knew better than to answer as he placed his own hands on Dean. 

Rowena pressed her fingers to Dean’s temples and started chanting in the same language as when they had started putting him back together. Her eyes went violet once again. 

Sam’s vision started to shake as before, this time it was accompanied by a splitting headache. Sam was sure his nose was also bleeding, but he was able to keep up chanting. 

The second they stopped Ruby flew away from the table. Rowena ripped her hands away from Dean as through she’d been shocked. 

Dean gasped to life. It was certainly not a gentle revival. He bolted upright, flailing wildly. Sam couldn't tell if his brother was trying to grab them closer or push them away. He grabbed Dean trying to hold him still. Rowena was shouting something he wasn't paying any attention too. Sam could see Ruby out of the corner of his eye cowering against the wall. It was the first time she'd seemed genuinely scared since he met her. Dean grabbed at Sam's face. Sam let him. He stared into his brother's now mismatched eyes. Dean finally stilled.

He worked his mouth making deep, raspy groans that might have once been words.

Sam smoothed his hand over the remaining patches of hair on Dean's head. “It's okay now. I've got you.”

Dean tilted his head and squinted his eyes in confusion.

“Well then. That was dramatic.”

Sam was startled not only by Rowena's words, but also by Dean ripping himself out his arms to turn and growl at Rowena.

Rowena only stared at him curiously, standing a bit taller.

Sam leaned forward to hug his arms around Dean. Dean just pushed back, spreading his arms and puffing out his chest to make himself seem bigger. Naked on a table of ice, newly undead, and unaware of the world and Dean's first instinct was still to stand between Sam and perceived danger. Sam would have rolled his eyes if he hadn't been so concerned that someone was going to die in the next few seconds. He didn't remember Dean being this strong before.

A slow, terrifying smile spread of Rowena's face. “Remember Samuel, a pet is a lot of responsibility. Good luck.” She turned and strutted out of the room. Ruby finally peeled herself off the wall and scurried after her. The bang of the closing door echoed behind them.

Sam had never felt so alone as he had in this moment. He had Dean back, and he was ecstatic about that, but a small part of his mind wondered in the most malevolent of whispers, if this creature in his arms could truly ever be Dean. It knew something was wrong, more than the obvious re-animation pains, while the rest of him was bending over backwards to reassure him that it was just a matter of time until Dean would be himself again, be the older brother he loved more than was reasonable. He just needed some rest and there had to be a readjustment period for something like this, right? 

Still, the look on Ruby’s face wouldn’t leave him and the two people that had been constantly reassuring him for this entire process had abandoned him for the night. 

He assumed it was for the night. They’d never really negotiated what would happen after they’d revived Dean, but Sam was certain he’d just accumulated a debt that he’d never be able to pay off in this lifetime and Rowena wasn’t one to let things go. 

They were undoubtedly letting him “enjoy” his “gift” while they celebrated the cementing of the little deal they’d made months ago by managing to hold up their end of the bargain. He really did belong to them now. 

It was the closest Sam had been left alone with his own thoughts since he’d met Ruby. He wasn’t sure what to do without Rowena’s reassuring lies or Ruby’s snark at his apparent ignorance. Dean couldn’t even tell him he’d done the right thing or, more likely, lecture him about how he was smarter than to work with witches, which would have been reassuring in its own way. 

Still, he knew he had to take care of Dean. They both needed rest and, with some food in the morning, they’d figure this out. He’d bring Dean up to speed and take the consequences as they came. 

It took Sam almost an entire day to realize exactly what Rowena was talking about. He'd expected the first night to be hard and that Dean would be confused. Sam had talked to him in slow soothing tones while he cleaned him up and dressed him. Dean waking up screaming repeatedly throughout the night had not been something Sam had expected, but he supposed he should have.

His brother had been in Hell, literally, until a few hours ago. 

Sam couldn’t imagine the trauma of it. His mind played over and over again the possible tortures his brother might have been exposed to: Dean strung up on a rack with his skin slowly peeled away, bit by bit. His brother suspended, upside down by his scrotum and being slowly devoured by thousands of angry bugs. What if there was some sort of Winchester waiting line for all the things they’d dealt with over the years, waiting to get their special piece of him? 

How did time even move in Hell? Just because it was a few days on earth didn’t mean anything. It could have been hours or it could have been years, maybe even decades. Sam didn’t know. He couldn’t know, but maybe he could have found a faster working spell, one that didn’t depend on the moon cycle. Maybe he could have held off the hellhounds longer so that Dean would have died closer to the new moon. He could have done something to spare Dean the pain; Sam was sure of it. 

He laid next to Dean, rubbing his back in a way he hoped was soothing during his short bits of sleep. Maybe one day Dean would be able to forgive him.

The next morning, when Sam tried to have breakfast with Dean, was when things really started to sink in. Dean wasn't just having a physical problem talking. He didn't know how. Sam wasn't even entirely sure he understood everything Sam told him. He was communicating; grunting, grabbing, screeching, biting, and throwing things being his favored methods, but higher verbal skills were gone.

Dean also didn't entirely have control of his body. It wasn't just Dean's fine motor skills. It became obvious very quickly that Dean was not going to be able to work his silverware. When Sam tried to feed him, Dean refused by growling at Sam and pounding his fist on the table. Sam finally gave up and just let Dean shove food in his mouth with his hands. Though Dean did try to feed Sam. There was also the random twitching, jerking, flailing, and shaking of his appendages. 

When Rowena waltzed into the kitchen the next morning for breakfast, she tried to assure Sam that those quirks would go away once the body was used to functioning again. Ruby followed soon after and ignored everyone in favor of getting right to cooking for Rowena. She disappeared again the second she put Rowena’s food down on the counter.

Having managed to feed Dean, Sam’s next challenge was not only the most unexpected, but somehow more difficult to deal with than night terrors and fine motor skill issues; Dean and the bathroom. It was ridiculously simply to convince him to use the toilet when he needed to shit, even toilet paper was a simple concept that Sam chalked up to Dean’s deep seeded need to be clean, but peeing was another story. 

He had a need to pee on things. Rowena had plenty to say about Dean defiling her expensive things and rugs, including passive aggressively leaving bottles of pet urine remover and puppy pads next to him while he was researching for her. It took Sam a few days to realize that Dean wasn’t randomly peeing on things, he was marking his territory. Most of the things he actually peed on were somehow Sam’s and usually after Ruby had touched them. Putting plants in the corners of their shared room helped to a degree. Weirdly, letting Dean hold hands with him and follow him everywhere cut down on incidents considerably. 

Nothing could keep him from occasionally peeing on Ruby. He’d mastered sneaking up on her and letting lose when no one expected it. No matter how much Sam scolded him, Dean just looked smug. Rowena threatening to castrate him had been slightly more effective. 

Sam had nightmares about Dean escaping from his restraints in the night and peeing on him and the bed while he slept. 

Otherwise, Rowena seemed entirely amused. She treated Dean like a giant toddler, which Sam resented, until around the fifth time he had to take something out of Dean's mouth he was trying to chew on.

She also wasn't entirely helpful when it came to the “care and raising” of his brother. He was still expected to go about his duties as though nothing had happened, which was more than a little difficult with an over six foot tall, clumsy, generally angry, caveman constantly underfoot. He'd tried having Ruby “Dean-sit,” but that resulted every time, without fail, in Dean strangling Ruby. Dean actually managed to kill her once, but whatever weird “fail safe” spell Rowena used to keep herself alive this long was in Ruby too. Which made sense, but Sam had never really thought about how both of them had been alive since the 17th century.

Sam had also been a bit distracted from constantly keeping one ear to the news. He was sure there would be something about the morgue break-ins, but nothing ever popped up. Sam should have just let it go. If it hadn't been in the news after that first night, it was never going to be, but he couldn't help feeling like something was just lurking over the horizon waiting for him.

Most of his limited downtime was spent trying to reteach Dean what he’d lost. Sam made flashcards with pictures printed from the internet and cut out of magazines glued onto index cards. He probably should have looked up basic words for toddlers online, but instead went with food and things around the house. They’d work on them for about an hour a day. Sam updated them as he thought of new things to add. During their second session, he discovered Ruby had added in some pornographic ones, but they helped keep Dean’s attention, so it was hard to stay mad. 

He’d also gotten some toddler toys from the thrift store. Sam had stuck to ones that would work Dean’s hand coordination the most, like stacking toys and small things that had to be picked up from one spot to another. Dean played with them on the floor while Sam did his work for the witches. When he could he would play with Dean. It seemed to make Dean happy. It was one of the few times he’d smile. Sometimes, Dean would insist on helping Sam stack the rings on the stick to form a pyramid. Sam wondered if Dean remembered playing like this when Sam was little. He tried not to think on that too much, because sometimes the role reversal was too much for him to take. 

There would be a look or a touch and Sam was convinced that his Dean was in there somewhere. He just had to reach him. If it took plastic toys and flashcards to do it, so be it. 

Dean's first word was “mine.”

Sam had been summoned to the witches' room. Technically, it was Rowena's room, but even in his own head, Sam couldn't acknowledge that Ruby didn't actually have space of her own. He reasoned that it might as well be both of their rooms since most of her belongings lived there and unless Rowena wanted him all to herself or was having some sort of fit, the left side of the bed was Ruby's.

He was trying to lock Dean up for the night. It sounded barbaric, but it was for Dean's own safety as much as anything else. Dean was still clumsy and impulsive. He also didn't care for Sam's little arrangement with the witches anymore than he had when he'd been alive the first time around. He also seemed to know full well when Sam was lying about where he was going.

Every time Sam stood up, Dean pulled him back down. It wasn't playful. Sam had tried gently explaining and telling Dean no at first, with no effect beyond a frustrated Dean screaming in his face. Sam started getting rough back. After shoving Dean back to his bed, Sam reached for the restraints on the floor. Dean grabbed Sam and shoved him to the wall. The more Sam fought back, the harder Dean held him. Sam only gave up when it became clear that Dean was going to inadvertently break his arm if it kept up.

They stared at each other. Sam realized Dean was trying to talk to him. His face was pinched in frustration.

“Mmmmm... maa... mine.” When the word finally forced its way out, it was more of a growl than a word.

Dean leaned his forehead to Sam's, releasing one arm to pet the side of his face. “Mine.”

Sam lay pliant against the wall while Dean kissed him roughly.

“Mine.” The word was more intelligible with each retelling.

Sam had wanted to hear Dean say that to him for a long time.

“Yours,” Sam whispered back softly. He nodded his head. “Yours. 

Dean kissed his neck, biting a little. 

This wasn’t how Sam pictured being with Dean on the rare occasions he dared picture it, but it's what he got and he was taking it. 

Dean let go of Sam’s arms, wrapping his own around Sam’s torso. Sam gripped Dean’s shoulders while Dean slotted his thigh between Sam’s legs and roughly rutted against him. He held on to Dean until he was done, surprising himself by coming with him.

Sam clung to Dean while they panted against the wall. He was startled by Dean’s fingers moving across his face. He was wiping away tears Sam didn’t know he was crying. It was relief. He’d wanted Dean since before he’d known that was a thing he could, and shouldn’t, want. Now he had him. He made no objections when Dean picked him up and carried him back to the bed. 

Being in love with your brother and belonging to a witch was more complicated than it sounded.

Rowena found the whole thing terribly amusing.

Dean took what Sam was mentally calling “the night against the wall” as permission to touch Sam however he wanted, whenever he wanted. It was flustering at best. 

During lunch one day, Sam was trying to interest Dean in a sliced banana and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Dean on the other hand was trying to get his hand in Sam’s pants. 

Finally having enough, no matter how good it actually felt, “Dean! Enough! It’s time to eat, not… that.”

Much to Sam’s shock, Dean stopped. He eyed Sam for a long moment, tilting his head to the side. He grinned mischievously and lunged at Sam. 

Sam tried to scramble away only to be pinned to his chair while Dean nibbled on his neck and shoulder playfully. 

“That’s not what I meant.”

There was a snort from across the table. Sam looked over. He’d completely forgotten Rowena was in the room. 

She lifted her tea cup to her mouth, smirking. “Oh, don’t mind me.”

So went life in their weird little family. It wasn’t quite bliss, but it was a level of functional Sam could deal with. At least for a while anyway. 

One morning, everything changed. 

Something was off. Sam couldn't quite place what was wrong. He paused in his reading. Dean was at the table next to him fighting with his pancakes. Sam was making him use a fork today and he was being extra fussy, but that wasn't unusual. Rowena wasn't up and about yet, but it was normal for her to sleep in. Ruby was quiet, but she was making Rowena's breakfast. If Dean wasn't harassing her or she didn't feel like harassing Sam, she tended to focus on things for Rowena without a lot of chatter. He could hear the birds outside. Nothing was out of place. There were no new noises. Nothing was unusually quiet. Something was still wrong. That feeling of being watched in the dark was screaming at him in the back of his mind.

He watched Dean some more. His brother didn't seem to notice anything was off. Sam told himself that if something was really wrong, something they really needed to worry about, Dean would be on edge already.

Sam went back to reading.

It was one of the last mistakes he was ever going to make.

He wasn't sure why he looked up. The sickening thwack registered before his brain processed that Ruby hit Dean in the back of the head with a cast iron skillet.

The world skidded to a halt.

He lunged for Dean.

He felt the knife in his side after it had been pulled out.

Sam hit the ground.

“What the blazes is going on in here?” Rowena's sleepy brogue proceeded the clacking of her slippers.

Ruby started shrieking.

The world started up again.

Sam tried standing with little success and quickly scrambled out of range.

“Oh, just cleaning up your mess, again!” Ruby gave an exaggerated shrug.

Sam could see Rowena standing in the doorway, her satin robe open dramatically like a cape over her pajamas and her sleep mask still pushed up on her forehead. She seemed to be in genuine shock.

“Ruby... what have you done?” her whispered question had attempted to be scolding and failed. 

“What did I do? Your stupid plan was never going to work! I fixed things!”

Rowena stepped forward. “Ruby, dear…” Rowena started. 

“No! You don't get to talk. For once, I get to talk and you'll have to listen to me!”

Rowena pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

“You were never going to be able to control... that.” Ruby waved her knife in Dean's direction. “Am I the only one that remembers what happened in Rome? And you were never going to turn the brother-fucker into your loyal lapdog. There is exactly one person he cares about and you were never on the list. He's brushed off everything you've thrown at him without even trying. Do you even remember the mess he left behind during the whole morgue incident? If I hadn’t been on top of things, we would have had the cops, the FBI, and hunters here, at our home and tracking us everywhere we went! Did you care or did you just assume I would take care of things like always?”

“That is your job, dear.” Rowena’s tone was even and cold. 

“What about your job?” Ruby shrieked. “You’re the one getting sloppy!” She pointed her knife at Rowena. “I did everything for you. I have followed you, cleaned up after you for over three hundred years.” She pointed back at herself, her tone getting bitter. “I had a life! I had a family. I had a husband who was kind. I had a child. Then you came along with your promises.” Ruby flailed wildly. “I just had to follow you, be loyal to you, only you. I gave you everything you wanted; the heart of my son, the head of my husband, my unquestioning devotion. What did it get me? Waiting on you hand and foot. Taking care of the gullible morons you string along. Getting whored out for your schemes. Getting pushed aside while you play around with this week's shiny toy. And now you want to replace me? Don't deny it. I saw what spell you had out. You shouldn't have taught me the codex. What did you think? I'd just play nursemaid to franken-freak while you two ran off into the sunset?” She was screaming. 

Ruby turned her attention to Sam, pointing her knife at him accusatorily. “Did you know? I don't know if I should be more grateful or offended that she actually gave me a choice. Apparently, reviving the troglodyte over there didn't inspire the worshipful gratitude she was expecting.”

Sam readjusted where he leaned against the wall. His hand pressed against his wound, but the bleeding was just getting worse. He looked over his shoulder. Dean was still slumped on the floor.

Rowena was pissy but unimpressed.

“You should be more worried, Rowena, dear,” Ruby emphasized the last part mockingly. Her malevolent grin warped her face. “While the rest of you thought I was toiling away at breakfast, I had a little spell of my own. Your little insurance policy is… negated at the moment.”

Rowena’s eyes widened.

“Mine too,” Ruby added. “I’m taking all of you with me this time. It all ends now.”

Rowena’s nostrils flared. She thrust her hand out, her eyes flashing violet. “You ungrateful bitch!”

Ruby was sent flying back hard enough she lost her footing, but she wasn’t out. She threw a bag she’d had in her pocket at Rowena and started chanting.

Flames burst at Rowena’s feet. She nullified them and started her own chant. 

Ruby’s eyes started bleeding. She’d made it to her feet by then and was staggering forward. 

Rowena tripped on one of her rugs as she backed away. She didn’t fall, but it gave Ruby the opportunity to close the distance between them. They fought over the knife.

Sam’s eyelids were getting heavy. He tried to watch, but it was getting hard to tell them apart and who had gone down, not that either of them were moving much. He tried to look at Dean, but his own body felt like lead. Breathing was hard. 

He couldn’t die. Not now. Who would take care of Dean?


End file.
